Firsts
by ACleverName
Summary: MalInara ... tea, winter night, miscommunications, hurts.


Title: Firsts

Rating: Er … PG?

Disclaimer: I don't think I own anything. Not even the kimono.

Summary: In the gloomy midwinter, many years ago . . . Inara can't sleep. She seeks tea for comfort. Mal seeks her.

Author's Notes: My first _Firefly _fic ever. I am excited to be involved in the ficathon but a little intimidated, I must confess.

Thanks: To anyone who reads, carmensandiego for putting together the contest, and Laura for introducing me to _Firefly. _

Spoilers: This is set between "Ariel" and "War Stories."

Firsts

It was difficult to measure the passing of time in space, Inara thought, not for the first time. Every day was night and every night was like the next. The stars might be beautiful, but they were fixed. She missed autumn leaves, spring buds, fruit blooming in summer. She even missed the first snows of winter.

Her calendar told her it was the shortest day of the year, but she couldn't really tell. She was alone in the silk and splendor of her bed, and she couldn't sleep. There was no particular concern bothering her, and she'd performed the normal rituals—drinking chaste tree tea, burning lavender incense. But she had stopped bothering to close her eyes and lay with them open, unblinking, staring into the darkness.

Was it her imagination, or was the air in _Serenity_'s corridors colder than usual? She was wrapped in a fine watered silk kimono in cherry blossom print, and her slippered feet moved silently over the metal floor. All ships had a sound to them, some more pleasing than others; _Serenity_'s was a hum, a lyrical _burrrrr. _

She met no one on her way to the kitchen and was glad of it. Not that she would have been particularly disgruntled to see any one of the crew at this hour—except maybe Jayne. But she relished this calm and quiet—a mainstay on her shuttle, but increasingly rare on board ship. She knotted the kimono more tightly around her.

She boiled the water and took from her sleeve her tea strainer. She had just poured over the scented leaves when she turned, and Mal Reynolds entered the kitchen. She said nothing.

"Mornin'," he said, smiling inoffensively.

She looked at her hands. She hadn't realized it was so late—or rather so early. "What brings you here?" she asked stiffly.

"What brings me here?" He reached across her for a mug. She ducked out of the way, rolling her eyes. "Well, maybe it has something to do with the fact I find myself subject to a serious gnawing hunger." He looked at her, deadpan. "And I could venture to guess that you were subject to a powerful need to drink. Is that right?"

She crossed her arms. "That's right. Your intuition is really astounding." She cradled the warm mug in her palms. He poured himself coffee, then sat down in the chair opposite, looked at her. "I couldn't sleep," she said.

He rubbed his eyes. "Matter o' fact, neither could I."

She took a step closer, peered into his mug. "Then coffee's not really going to help."

He pulled back. "I ain't gonna have anyone fussin' and frettin' over what I put in my own gullet. Got one mother, don't need another."

She flinched. "Well. I'll be in my shuttle."

"Cold."

She turned halfway. "Excuse me?"

"Seem cold to you?" He rolled down his sleeves over his elbows. She nodded. "Yeah, I thought so. Gotta have Kayley take a look at climate control in the morning." He stared at his coffee. "I mean, at a decent hour, when sane folks's awake."

Inara smiled, despite herself. She took a step back into the room. "It's the longest night of the year," she said. "The winter solstice."

"That a fact."

"Many Earth cultures celebrated this time of year." She sat down in the chair opposite him.

"Why would anyone want to celebrate the _gorram _darkest night in the calendar?"

"The days will be getting longer now, winter is on its way out." She sipped her tea. "Before you scoff, this is the first winter I've spent entirely in space. It feels . . . different to me."

He glanced up at her briefly, then took a swig of coffee. "Funny thing, firsts. Bit of an uncanny, how they stick in your memory." She waited. "Experiences that might not in other state of affairs be worth rattlin' around in the brainpan stick 'cause they were the first."

She squinted, drinking her tea. "I'm not sure I understand."

"Take you, fr'instance." His gaze was piercing. "How about your first client, after you became a certified Companion?"

She broke his gaze. "Mal, you know I operate on a strictly confidential basis."

He pursed his lips, looked amused. "That's shiny—you don't have to reveal any names here. I ain't gonna say a word to a soul."

"Then why do you want to know?"

He could whip out that innocent face like nobody's business. "What? Me? Lookin' for a way to pass the time on a long winter's night, that's all."

There was a time when she would have blushed. But she didn't give him the satisfaction. "He was a young professional," she said slowly. "Polite, cultured, and experienced in Companion circles—he came highly recommended. The arrangement was mutually beneficial, and we met many times after that."

"Funny, 'Nara, how you can say so much and yet convey so little."

She raised an eyebrow. "That's all I'm at liberty to say."

He appeared not to have heard. "Aren't you going to ask me about my first?"

"Your first what?"

He got up and stood over her. "First person I slept with."

She looked away, shoulders tight. She opened her mouth several times to speak, but nothing came out. She stared at him, hard.

"No need to get your kimono in a twist," he said softly. "It's been so long I can't even remember."

She moved mechanically with her empty mug to the sink. "Frankly, I hope that's the last I ever have to hear of this subject."

He leaned close to her ear. "Fair enough. But tell me this, Inara—when was the last time _you _had sex without gettin' paid for it?"

She shoved her mug angrily into the sink. She turned on her heel and ran almost straight into Kayley in the doorway. "Cap'n, I think there's something nigh-screwy with the pressure converters, causing us to freeze like the butt-side of the moon." She was holding up a wrench. "I tried purging the manifold, but—" She glanced at Inara. "Oh, _hi_, Inara. I _love _that robe! Is it new?"

"Thank you," Inara said warmly. "It was a gift from my first client." She gave Mal a look, tossing her head, and moved purposefully out the door.


End file.
